Graveyard
by L.B.Wolfe
Summary: "I'm sorry, Marik...It's all my fault." Bakura has never forgiven himself for allowing his mate to perish. Now, 200 years later, he believes she has been reborn in the form of a sarcastic, rebellious teenage boy who wants nothing to do with him. Bakura needs to convince Marik quickly, because another has set his sights on his mate, with intentions not nearly as innocent as he says.
1. Prolouge

**A/N: Hey, all. I'm alive, as you can see, and I'm back with a bright, shiny new fanfic! I wanted to get this up weeks ago, but I've been crazy busy since school started. I joined tennis for the first year of my life, and that took up a lot of time. It just ended, though, so maybe I'll have a bit more free time. I also, for the first - and probably last - time in my life, managed to get a lead role in my school play, so rehearsals and script memorization have been cutting into my time, too. Luckily, that's over at the end of the month, so for about two months (auditions for the spring musical usually happen in December or January) the only thing cutting into my free time will be homework, and college visitations, but I finish my college visits in November, so mainly just homework. :)**

**Well, if you managed to survive that l-o-n-g author's note (sorry 'bout that), allow me to introduce the continuation of my oneshot "Graveyard"! Hooray! (As of right now, the title for this story will remain as "Graveyard" since I can't come up with anything better. If anyone has any suggestions, I would love to hear them.)**

**One last thing, (I know, I know) this prolouge is actually the original oneshot, so if you've already read it and just want to skip straight to the actual story, you can. Or, if you're a newcomer and have never read the oneshot before, read on! (And no, Marik will not be a girl for the whole story.) Okay, I swear I'm done now.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!**

* * *

**London, 1805:**

Marik quietly crept down the stairs of her home. She accidentally stepped on the one stair that always creaked when the slightest bit of weight was placed on it and held her breath as the sound echoed through the house. She waited for ten heart-stopping seconds before deciding that her siblings hadn't heard her and continued down the stairs.

She reached the back door - exiting through the front door was too risky, she could be seen by a nighttime policeman - and jumped when she heard a voice behind her.

"Where are you going?"

She turned around and was momentarily blinded by the small flame of a candle, the only light in the dark house. When her eyes adjusted, she was able to make out the form of her adoptive brother.

"Odion," she said, trying not to show how much he had startled her. "I, um, I couldn't sleep. I was just going for a walk to clear my mind."

"A walk at this time of night with no source of light?" Odion sighed. "Marik, these midnight walks must stop. If someone were to see you walking alone..."

"Brother, I'll be fine. It will be just a short walk."

Odion sighed. "What do you plan on saying if someone sees you?"

"Well...that I was sent out on an errand. Is that all right?"

"So you would lie. Just what is it you're doing on these walks of yours?"

Marik was silent. What was she supposed to say? She didn't like lying to Odion. He was one of the few people in the world that she trusted. Oh, why did he have to catch her?

"I'm sorry," she finally said. "I'll just go back to bed."

"No. It's not my place to stop you from doing what you wish. After all, I'm just a servant."

Marik took a couple steps forward and wrapped her arms around her adoptive brother's waist, hugging him tightly. Her mother had wished to raise Odion as her own son after she had taken him in from the streets as a baby. After their mother's death, Marik's older sister, Ishizu, pleaded with their father not to send Odion back into the streets. He agreed, but instead of treating Odion like a son, he was demoted to servant status, taking care of the master's house and daughters.

"Thank you, brother," Marik whispered, stepping backwards. She knew that Odion would simply go back to bed and would the next morning deny seeing her sneak out. She could trust Odion. She hoped.

Marik pushed open the rusted gate of the graveyard and stepped in. She shivered as the night air suddenly seemed to drop several degrees. Her breath fogged in the air and she wished she had worn something warmer. She should know better, after so many nights spent here.

Rubbing her arms, she slowly made her way across the cemetary, coming to a stop in front of one gravestone in particular:

**Veronica Ishtar**

**1754-1789**

**Loving Mother, Obedient Wife**

Marik knelt down in front of her mother's grave and gently brushed her fingertips over the engraved words.

"Hello, Mother," she whispered. "I'm sorry I haven't visited you these last few times I have been here. I know you must be lonely."

"I hate to break it to you, my dear, but the dead feel nothing, not even lonliness."

Marik jumped up at the voice behind her. Before she could turn around, a pale arm slid around her waist and a hand covered her mouth, preventing her from making a noise.

"I hope you don't mind, my dear," a seductive voice purred in her ear. "But I haven't eaten all day." Marik squirmed, shaking the hand off of her mouth.

"Bakura!" she cried, turning around in the pale man's arms and throwing her arms around his neck. "I've told you not to sneak up on me like that!"

"Apologies, Marik. Sometimes the temptation is just to great to resist."

Marik took a step back and smiled at the pale man before her. His eyes gleamed red in the light of the full moon, and his snow-white hair hung down past his shoulders, but what never failed to catch her attention was the two long fangs that overlapped the rest of his teeth when he bared them in what was supposed to be a charming smile. This was her secret, her lover, Bakura.

A vampire.

Many of the townspeople were superstitious. Somehow, they had gotten the idea that a vampire was living nearby, waiting to feed off of their blood the moment they let their guard down. They never wandered out at night, and did their best to avoid the cemetary, even during the day when there was nothing to fear. But Marik had never believed the rumors and had decided to go to the graveyard late at night to prove to the townspeople how foolish they were being. She hadn't known at the time that there _was_ a vampire living in a tomb at the cemetary, and she hadn't expected to fall in love with him.

She had kept her distance at first, never speaking to him, only watching him from a distance. Until one night, when he spoke to her;

"_I know that you're there. You've been watching me for quite some time."_ The moment he turned and locked eyes with her, Marik felt a chill run through her body. "_Young women should not be wandering alone at night. Particularly in a graveyard."_

_"I'm...I'm not afraid of you. If you knew I was watching you, why didn't you attack me?"_

_"Hmm. Perhaps it was because no mortal has ever watched me with such fascination before. Or..."_ He had somehow gotten behind her, running his chilled fingers down her arms. "_Perhaps it's because I have never been so fascinated with a human before."_

Marik did her best to go to the graveyard every night after that encounter. At first she had been wary, ready to scream if he made a lunge for her throat. But as time went on, she grew to trust the vampire, and fell more in love with him on each visit.

Bakura's arms drawing her close brought her out of her memories. She shivered slightly and he made a slight tsk-ing sound.

"After all this time, you do not remember how cold this cemetary gets at night? Foolish little mortal, why don't you dress warmer?"

"I'm sorry," Marik said, placing her hands on his chest and smiling at him. "I was in such a rush to see you that I didn't think."

"I'm sorry that I can't do much to keep you warm," Bakura muttered, wrapping his own cloak around Marik's shoulders. Marik smiled slightly, before remembering what happened earlier.

"I may not be able to visit you for a while, Bakura," she said. "Odion caught me sneaking out tonight. I think he suspects something. I know that he won't tell but...I do not like keeping secrets from him."

Bakura tightened his grip on his mortal lover.

"Then let me turn you, Marik," he whispered. "It wouldn't hurt you, and you wouldn't have to lie to them any longer. You could tell them everything, and then I could take you away before anyone could harm you."

"I...I cannot let you, Bakura. Not yet," Marik responded, pressing her face against Bakura's shirt.

"Why not?" Bakura asked, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. He stroked Marik's hair gently. "You do not need them. We have each other."

Marik tilted her head back and looked Bakura sadly in the eyes.

"But they need me, Bakura."

Bakura closed his eyes and held Marik close.

"Are you certain?"

Marik nodded.

"Someday..." she whispered. Bakura sighed and released his grip on Marik, holding her out at arms' length.

"In the meantime..." he murmured with a smirk, baring his fangs in the slightest and making Marik shiver again. "Shall we make love? Right here, right now? Proclaim our bond before the dead?"

Marik glanced down at the gravestone the couple was still in front of.

"Not in front of my mother..." she said. Bakura rolled his eyes slightly.

"She's dead, my love. She won't scold us."

"I know, but...it just doesn't seem right."

"Alright. If you feel so strongly about it, we can go to my tomb. But I warn you, you will have a much longer walk back home."

"I don't mind walking."

Bakura grinned, his fangs gleaming in the moonlight.

"Then let's go."

**Several Weeks Later...**

Bakura perched on top of a gravestone and studied the moon. Midnight. Marik would be here soon, if she was able to sneak out. That interfering brother of hers had kept her away from Bakura for much too long. He needed to see her, to hold her.

If only she would let him turn her! He would keep her safe from the so-called "vampire hunters" that would spring up from time to time in every town he visited. She would no longer be suffocated by that overbearing family of hers. She wouldn't have to be afraid of being discovered and killed for associating with a vampire. She would be his, and he would be hers. They only needed each other. They didn't need anyone to interfere.

"Bakura?"

She was here. Bakura jumped down from the gravestone, landing in front of her. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close.

"Marik," he whispered. "I have missed you."

"I've missed you, too." Marik gripped him tightly, pressing her face into his chest. Bakura took hold of her shoulders and gently pushed her away, holding her out at arms length.

"What is it, Marik?" he asked, sensing that something was troubling his mate.

"I need you to turn me."

Bakura was taken aback by the blunt demand. Had something happened to her family? Had their relationship been discovered somehow?

"Marik...why now?"

Marik looked down. Taking on of Bakura's hands, she linked his fingers with her own and pressed them against her stomach.

"I am with child," she whispered. "Your child."

Bakura's eyes widened slightly. He took half a step back. Fate was cruel, so cruel. Just the two of them had suddenly become something much, much bigger.

"Bakura, you must turn me," Marik pleaded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Bakura stepped closer to her and pulled her close once more.

"I cannot," he whispered.

"But..."

"Not until the child is born. If I were to turn you now, it would irreversibly damage the child. We would have to kill it the moment it was born."

Marik gasped quietly, putting one hand over her mouth.

"But...when the doctor's see the child, they will know...They'll know it is not a mortal man's child!"

Bakura pressed one hand on Marik's stomach, narrowing his eyes in concentration.

"The child will be born at night," he said. "All vampire children must be born at night, even if they are half-mortal. The daylight would kill them the moment it met their skin. You must come to me before the baby is born. A week before, if you are able. We will leave this place. Forever. Then, when the child has been born, I will turn you."

"What about the baby?" Marik whispered. "If it is half-mortal, half-vampire, it would die someday, wouldn't it?"

"No. Half-mortals age slower than normal mortals. They age the equivalent of two mortal years every century. When they reach the age that they wish to remain in immortally, they perform a ritual that will prevent them from aging any longer." Bakura sighed. "At least, that's what I've heard..." He looked at Marik and kissed her forehead gently.

"What do your siblings think? Do they know?" Marik nodded.

"Odion believes that I've been sneaking out at night to go see someone. He's right, of course, but he assumes it's a mortal."

"Then he's wrong. And your sister?" Marik glanced at the ground.

"She is disappointed in me. She doesn't say it, but I can tell." Bakura held Marik close, stroking her hair.

"Don't worry, my love. Soon you and our child will be with me forever, and you won't have to worry about disappointing her ever again."

"I know. I should go back. They've been keeping a closer eye on me since we found out..."

"I understand." Bakura kissed Marik. "Be careful. Tell people that the father was a traveler who ran off when he learned of the child."

"I will. I shall return before the child is born."

**Several months later...**

Bakura paced around the cemetary, his cloak flowing in the wind behind him. It was drawing closer and closer to the time when the baby would be born. Why was Marik waiting so long? Was she really so reluctant to leave her family?

Bakura's head snapped up at the sound of running feet. Someone was approaching. He ducked behind a gravestone and waited. Soon, Marik appeared, looking disheveled. Panting, she looked around desperately, clutching a small bundle to her chest. It couldn't be...

Bakura flew out from behind the gravestone and was next to Marik in an instant. Without saying a word, he pulled a blanket back from the bundle, revealing a small, pale face framed by snow-white hair. His child. Bakura looked at Marik, opening his mouth, but she spoke before he could.

"I tried to come last night, Bakura, but the baby...he came early. I couldn't do anything. The doctor saw his eyes, Bakura, he knows! He went to tell the rest of the village. Odion helped me escape. Bakura, we have to run!"

Bakura closed his eyes and listened. He could faintly hear the rest of the villagers approaching the graveyard, set to kill all three of them.

"Marik, take our son and go. I'll hold them off and catch up to you."

"No!" Marik clutched Bakura's arm. "I cannot run on my own forever, Bakura. I need you. Ryou needs you."

Bakura looked down at the bundle once more. Ryou, his son, was fast asleep, completely unaware to the impeding danger. There was no way Bakura could leave them.

"Alright. We'll go to my tomb. There's a tunnel in there that we can escape through. But we have to hurry," he said urgently, the sound of footsteps drawing closer. "Or they will catch us."

Marik nodded, holding Ryou closer. Bakura took her free hand and started running, making a beeline for his tomb. Four marble walls, and one heavy stone door, no mortal man could open it on his own.

"_Unless there were many mortal men with the proper equipment to break through stone,"_ Bakura thought with a grimace. No, he could not think that. He had to protect Marik and Ryou. He had to get to the tomb, seal the door, open the tunnel...

Marik cried out as she slipped. Bakura steadied her.

"We're almost there, Marik," he said. "We'll be safe soon."

Marik stared down at Ryou with tears in her eyes. Kissing his forehead softly, she handed the bundle to Bakura.

"I cannot go on," she said. "I was already tired from giving birth. I have no strength left. You have to continue, Bakura. Keep Ryou safe. I promise, I will find you again."

"Marik, they will kill you! I can't let you-"

"Bakura." Marik stared into his eyes. "Please. Go. Take care of Ryou. Keep him from harm. And remember that I will find you both."

Bakura kissed Marik hard. There was no time left. The crowd was too close. He couldn't convince Marik to flee. She was mortal, she was tired, she was going to die here, by the hands of those she had once called her friends.

"I will never stop searching for you," Bakura promised. Marik squeezed his hand.

"Go."

Bakura took off into the night, forcing himself not to look back. The child in his arms stirred and began to whimper. He held his son protectively and murmured to him in an attempt to soothe him, but all that was coming to his mind was the child's mother.

"Marik, I will find you again," he said. "I don't care how many centuries it will take. I will find you. And when I do, I will turn you, no matter what. I will not let you be taken away from us again. I promise."


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: And here we start the actual story part. Which means, yes, Marik is a boy again. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!**

* * *

Marik gripped the plastic red ball tightly, eyeing his opponent with a smirk. The short, spiky-haired boy watched nervously as Marik pulled his arm back and let the ball fly.

_Wham!_ "Yes! Right in the face!" Marik crowed. The force from the impact made the other boy stagger a few feet before falling backwards on the ground. A whistle was blown loudly.

"Ishtar!" Still smirking, Marik turned to the PE teacher.

"Yes, Karita-san?" he asked in a mockingly sincere way. Karita, a Neanderthal in a past life, bent down to scream in Marik's face.

"You're playing _kickball_, not _dodgeball!_ Not to mention the fact that Motou's on your _team_!" he roared. Marik tipped his head to one side, pretending to think about this revelation. He snapped his fingers as if realization had finally kicked in.

"Oh, that's right! Sorry, sir, Yugi's so short, I mistook him for an evil gremlin-gnome. The only way to stop one is a dodgeball to the face. Guess I was wrong, though." Mr. Karita glared, clearly not amused at all.

"Pushups. Now," he barked.

"Aye-aye, sir." Marik dropped to the ground and easily did the ten pushups that served as a punishment for breaking the rules. Then, just to piss the teacher off even more, he did ten more. The fact that Marik, one of the so-called "girly boys," was stronger than half of the more masculine boys that attended Domino High pissed Karita off to no end.

With a smirk, Marik jumped back to his feet.

"Anything else, Karita-san?" he asked. The caveman glared at the cocky teenager.

"The next time you break the rules like that, you've earned a one-way ticket to the principal's office and a crew cut! Am I clear?"

"Sir, yes sir!" Marik straightened up and shot one hand to his forehead in a mock salute, making a few girls in the class giggle. Karita scowled and turned his attention to Yugi.

"Walk it off, Motou!" he yelled. "We've got a game to finish!" Yugi picked himself up from the floor. He looked up at Karita and smiled brightly.

"I'm alright, sir! It was just an accident!" he said. Marik snorted, rolling his eyes. The midget was way too trusting. He was sixteen, it was high time he learned that not everyone was pure of heart and deed, or else he'd wind up dead in a ditch somewhere.

Karita scowled and turned back to the class. "What're you lazy freeloaders gawking at?" he screamed. "This game is not over yet! Keep playing!" He blew his whistle sharply to emphasize his point, causing Marik to cringe.

_"That was a little unnecessary,"_ he thought, rolling his eyes. Crossing his arms, he glanced around the gym. Most people were focusing on the game, realizing that their little bout of entertainment had come to an end. A few girls were standing in a cluster, giggling over something and screaming whenever the ball came within ten feet of them. However, there was another person not paying attention to the game. Joey Wheeler, Yugi's best friend, was sending Marik a look of absolute malice. Apparently, the lanky blond wasn't happy with Marik's little joke, even though Yugi seemed as perky as ever. Marik sighed; he figured as much. He would have it coming in the locker room, he knew, but for the moment, he may as well try to have some fun. When the ball rolled his way again, he scooped it up, whipping it in Joey's direction.

_Wham! Tweet!_

"Ishtar!"

"My bad, sir!"

* * *

As expected, Joey got in Marik's face as soon as they got in the locker room.

"You think you're pretty hot shit, don't you?" he growled. Marik rolled his eyes (he had to work on not doing that.).

"I don't think so, Wheeler. I know I'm hot shit."

"Ya tryin' to start somethin' with me?"

"Me?" Marik crossed his arms. "You're the one who started screaming in my face."

"Joey, leave him alone," Yugi said. "This isn't helping."

"You stay out of this, shrimp," Marik snapped.

"You got something to say to him, you say it to me," Joey growled.

"Fine." Marik took a step closer to Joey and narrowed his eyes. "Tell him to mind his own goddamn business."

No one was exactly sure who started the fight. Some said Joey had punched Marik first, others said that Marik had shoved Joey when he had finished speaking, but within moments, the two were in the middle of an all-out brawl in the middle of the locker room. Fists and curses were flying, egged on by the cheering from the crowd that had gathered.

The fight ended when Karita came into the locker room to see what was taking so long. With the help of a few other students, he managed to pull the two brawling adolescents away from each other.

"What the hell is going on in here?!" he yelled. Joey glowered at Marik.

"It's his fault! The damn faggot thinks he's so cool and thinks he can get away with anything!"

Marik tried to lunge forward, intent on gouging out Joey's eyes and force-feeding them to him, but the other students managed to restrain him.

"Don't you ever fucking call me that!" Marik screamed. "I'll rip out your tongue and watch you drown in your own blood!"

"Not another word out of you, Ishtar!" Karita ordered. "Both of you, principal's office. Now!"

Marik and Joey were released, and unceremoniously shoved out into the hallway. With a glare at Joey, Marik started stomping off in the opposite direction of the principal's office. He definitely had no intention of going, and Karita wouldn't bother to check and make sure he did. Joey stalked after him, his fury apparently not spent either.

"Reacted a little harshly to that, didn't ya?" he taunted. "Hidin' somethin', Marik? Tryin' to cover somthin' up?"

Marik clenched his fists. Maybe he was a little too sensitive to gay jokes. After nearly three years, he would've thought that he'd be used to them, but as the years went on, people had actually begun to believe the jokes and rumors as the truth. It could have been Marik's hairstyle, or clothing choice, or anything that made him susceptible to gay jokes, but Marik wasn't going to change who he was, even though society thought this meant he was queer.

"Hey, what's wrong, fag? Don't wanna hit me? Afraid you'll break a nail?"

Although, a person could only take so many gay jokes in one day. Marik whirled around, a fire in his eyes.

"Look, I know that this is all so hilarious to you, but I've already got a swell bad mood going for me, and you're just making it worse. All you're doing is pissing me off. So go ahead, tell another gay joke, call me a fag again. Just remember, I have ways of getting even. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, maybe not for a few years, even. But continue to piss me off, and you will pay."

Joey's face drained of color, but he wasn't looking at Marik. Marik turned around to see what had taken Joey's attention away from his threat and immediately felt his stomach drop.

Russet eyes peered out from under a mane of wild white hair. Arms as pale as death crossed over a blue and white-striped t-shirt. Marik gulped and took a step back. He almost wished it had been a teacher, or the principal who had interrupted them. This was much, much worse.

"The bell's going to ring soon," Bakura Touzokou said, staring at the two boys down the hall. "Perhaps you should move your discussion elsewhere. Unless, of course, you want an audience?" He punctuated this question with the raising of his left eyebrow. Marik felt his stomach sink lower when he realized that Bakura was addressing him.

"Thanks," he said, forcing himself to sound calm. "But we're done here. Isn't that right, Jo..." Marik turned, only to realize that Joey had taken this opportunity to run. He was halfway down the hallway when Marik turned around.

"Jerk!" Marik thought angrily. Joey must've been angrier than Marik thought if he was leaving him alone with Bakura. It was a bit of an unspoken rule in the school that no one was ever left alone with Bakura Touzokou. No matter if you were friends or bitter enemies with someone, everyone protected each other from Bakura.

Marik froze when he felt an ice-cold hand on his shoulder. Slowly, he turned his head, his gaze traveling up the pale arm and locking with Bakura's. The ghost-like boy offered what Marik assumed was supposed to be a friendly smile.

"I'm guessing you don't want me to tell anyone about that little conversation?" he asked. Marik swallowed.

"Well, uh. Yeah, sure. Don't tell anyone," he managed to choke out. Bakura nodded.

"Alright then. I won't," he said, staring intently at Marik. The Egyptian boy shifted uncomfortably. Why was this freak staring at him? Did he have something on his face? Was his kohl running? Did he have spinach in his teeth?

"I, uh, I'd better get to class," Marik said. Bakura nodded again, not taking his eyes off of Marik.

"We both have mathematics next, don't we? Why don't we head there together?" Bakura suggested, continuing to lock Marik's gaze with his own. Marik's stomach dropped. The last thing his reputation needed was to be seen with this guy.

"Uh, no, that's okay. I need to stop by my locker first, anyway, so I'll just see you in class." Marik sidestepped around Bakura, half-expecting the albino to whip out a knife and stab him between the eyes, but Bakura merely watched him as he ran down the hall and turned the corner.

"Jeez." Marik glanced behind him, breathing hard. "What's with that freak?"

Ordinarily, Marik wouldn't show such fear around one of his classmates, but Bakura was the exception. Marik had sensed something was off about him since he had first met Bakura. Not to mention all the rumors circulating around him; that he had been kicked out of his last school and forced to relocate to Domino, that he had a kid, that his ex-girlfriend had either died giving birth, or had forced him to take the kid since she wanted nothing to do with it or him, things like that. Marik wasn't sure if he believed the rumors or not, but he knew one thing for certain, to avoid Bakura Touzokou at all costs.

* * *

Marik ended up getting to math class a few minutes late, not that the teacher cared. Math was one of the few classes Marik excelled at, so he basically had a "get out of jail free" card when it came to being late.

Marik tried to put more effort than usual into concentrating, but he could feel Bakura's penetrating gaze on him from the second he walked in. It was unsettling, to say the least.

_"Why does he keep staring at me?!"_ Marik thought, struggling to pay attention. _"We talked for all of twelve seconds in the hallway, does he actually think we're _friends_ now?!"_

"Your homework tonight is to do pages sixty-nine through seventy-two, evens only, and omit numbers sixteen and eighteen," the teacher said as the bell (finally) rang. "Marik, can I see you for a moment?"

Marik looked up. There were only three people left in the classroom at this time; Marik, the teacher...and Bakura.

"Uh, okay..." Marik slowly approached the teacher's desk, wondering what she could possibly want that involved Bakura.

"Don't worry, you aren't in trouble." The teacher smiled and pulled out two folders. She opened them and placed them on the desk so that the boys could see them. Inside one, Marik saw his name, along with a paper containing a column of assignments and a column of grades. He was pleased to see he had mainly A minuses and B pluses. The second folder had Bakura's name and the same paper, containing mainly D's, a few F's and the occasional C. Marik was starting to put together what was going on.

"Marik, you are one of the best students in the class," the teacher said. "Bakura, on the other hand, is struggling a bit. He came to me asking how he could improve and I suggested a tutor. Ordinarily, I would tutor him myself, but my mother is in the hospital and I don't have time at the moment. So, I was wondering..."

_"Here it comes..."_ Marik thought.

"If you would be willing to tutor Bakura for a few weeks, to help him get the hang of things."

"Uh, gee." Marik glanced at Bakura, who was staring back at him full-force. "I'm not really much of a teacher..."

"Marik, you're an intellegent young man and an excellent student. I'm surre you'd have no trouble at all."

"I'm not so sure about this." Maybe if he protested enough, the teacher would just forget the whole thing. There was no way in hell he was going to be stuck along with Bakura for God-knows how long.

"How about this? If you tutor Bakura after school for two hours a day for three weeks, I'll put the time down towards your community service** (1)**. Would that be alright?"

Damn. Caught between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, Marik needed to avoid Bakura at all costs. One the other hand, he needed to get those community service hours in if he wanted to have a prayer of graduating. This could be the only chance he had to get them done. He sighed.

"Okay," he agreed. "I'll do it."

"Oh, Marik, that's wonderful! You have no idea how much I appreciate you doing this," the teacher said, smiling.

"Yeah, yeah," Marik muttered, turning to Bakura. "So, you wanna go to the library after school, or something?"

Bakura's lips twitched into a slight smirk.

"Actually, I believe it would be best if we went to my house, _if_ you don't mind."

Marik shivered. The voice was friendly, but something in Bakura's eyes told Marik that he had better not argue with him.

"Y-yeah. Sounds good. I'll, uh, see you after school, then." Marik hurried out of the classroom, not quite believing what had just happened. His bad reputation was going to be ground into microscopic dust when word got around that he was hanging out with Bakura. But there was no way to avoid it. He had already sealed the deal.

Bakura watched Marik walk down the hall. It seemed his fortunes were finally starting to turn. It hadn't been difficult at all to find out which class Marik excelled in, then to slowly but surely let his own grades drop. The teacher was bound to notice and assign him some help. And as for ensuring it would be Marik who helped him, and not the teacher, well, losing enough blood would land anyone in the hospital, and their teacher's mother was no exception.

"It won't be long now," Bakura murmured. "It's been long enough already. Soon, Marik, everything will go according to plan."

The white-haired teen turned and strode down the hall, completely oblivious to the pair of emerald-green eyes watching his every move.

* * *

**(1) Marik doesn't need community service because he's been arrested. At my school, every graduating senior is required to have at least 20 hours of community service before they can graduate. I don't know if other schools do this, but I just thought it would be a good way to get Marik to agree to tutor Bakura.**

**Well, there you have it. The first chapter of my newest story. I can't make any promises as to when I'll get the second chapter up, but I hope you all enjoyed this first one!**


	3. Chapter 2

Marik was in a foul mood for the rest of the day. He dreaded the moment when the bell would ring, releasing him from his current prison just to send him into the clutches of another.

"_Why do I allow myself to get stuck in these kinds of situations?"_ he wondered for the millionth time. He stared at the clock, willing time to freeze to no avail. The clock ticked one last time and almost immediately the bell went off, signaling the end of the day. With a sigh, Marik gathered his books and stood up.

"Might as well go and get it over with," he muttered, following the crowd out of the classroom and almost jumping out of his skin when he saw Bakura, leaning against the wall directly across from the classroom door. The albino grinned when he saw Marik.

"I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't forget our little..._appointment_," he said. Marik fought the urge to shiver.

"How the hell could I forget? I'm only doing this so that I can graduate." Marik turned and walked down the hall towards his locker, acutely aware of Bakura following him and the stares this was earning him.

"Um, why don't you go wait _outside_?" Marik said, shooting Bakura a look as they approached his locker. Bakura smirked.

"Why, Marik, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't want to be seen with me."

"_Well, you sure got _that_ right..."_ Marik sighed, opening his locker and taking out his bag.

"Well," he said, slamming his locker shut unneccessarily hard. "Lead the way." Bakura smirked.

"As you wish, my friend."

* * *

Marik stared at Bakura's house, mouth agape. Not only was Bakura pale as a ghost, he lived in a freakin' haunted house!

_"Maybe he _is _a ghost,"_ Marik thought with a slight shiver. The house was three stories tall, dark, and gloomy. Leafless trees decorated the yard, casting shadows across the front of the house. Marik half expected to see lightning flash and hear organ music coming from the attic. However, creepy as the house was, Marik had to admit that it was quite elegant, in an Addams Family sort of way.

"Are you coming?" Bakura turned and grinned at Marik, his too-white-to-be-normal teeth glinting in the dim light. "Don't be afraid, my friend. I assure you, there's nothing wrong in this house. But then again, there are very few things _right_ in this house." Marik, confused by this riddle, took a half-step backwards.

"M-maybe we should go to my place instead," he heard himself saying. He mentally kicked himself. His brother and sister would never let him hear the end of it if he brought this freak home! Bakura tipped his head back and laughed, a deep and menacing sound that sent chills running up and down Marik's spine.

"Oh, Marik, there is nothing to fear. I was only joking with you. Besides," Bakura walked up the cracked stone steps leading to the front door. "I always come straight home after school. I... cannot afford to change my schedule after all this time." Before Marik could question what he meant, Bakura opened the door and pushed the Egyptian inside.

The inside was even creepier than the outside. The entire front hall was lit only by candles, and a blood-red carpet stretched the entire length.

"You can take off your shoes and leave them there," Bakura said, dropping his school bag onto the floor and removing his own sneakers. Marik obeyed, and then followed Bakura further into the house, past a kitchen and into the living room.

"Jeez, Bakura," Marik said, simply to fill up the silence that had settled like a thick blanket. "I never knew you were loaded." Bakura glanced at Marik with a puzzled frown.

"'Loaded'?" he repeated.

"Yeah...you know, upscale, prosperous...filthy rich."

"Oh." Bakura turned away. "I'm not. I inherited this house from the previous owner when he died. He was...an old friend who owed me a favor. This was the best he could do."

"Oh. I see." Marik felt heat creeping up his neck in embarrassment.

"_Don't get all worked up!" _he scolded himself. "_When someone lives in a place like _this_ in a city like _Domino,_ it's only natural to assume they're made of money!"_

Bakura lit a lantern and smiled dryly at Marik.

"You'll have to excuse the lack of electricity. The house is quite old and doesn't have any wired to it, and I haven't had the time or the money to have someone come in."

_"Is he now purposely bringing up the fact that he isn't rich?"_

Marik started to respond, but stopped when he saw movement out of his eye. He and Bakura both turned. A small child, about four years old, was kneeling on a small table next to a window, getting ready to lift the curtain away and peer outside.

"Ryou!" Bakura shouted, rushing over to the boy and snatching him away from the curtains. He set the child on the floor safely away from the window and took hold of his shoulders.

"What have I told you? You're not supposed to do that, you know what sunlight does to you!"

The child stared at Bakura with wide eyes.

"I...I waked up, and you weren't here, so I wanted to look for you. I-I thought that if I looked just a few seconds..."

"Even just a few seconds could do irreversable damage to you! I've told you often enough, you should know that by now!" Bakura was almost yelling by now and Marik was quite unsure of what, exactly, was happening here. The child blinked, obviously holding back tears, and looked at the ground.

"I'm sorry, Daddy..."

_"Daddy?!"_ Well that was one rumor proven true. The infamous Bakura had a kid after all. And, after getting a better look at the kid, Marik could clearly see the resembalance.

Both had long white hair, although the kid's was quite a bit shorter. Both were pale, although Ryou's pale skin looked a bit...healthier than Bakura's. The only difference Marik could see (obviously not counting age and height) were their eyes. Bakura's eyes were dark, almost black, and it was impossible to tell what the original color was. Ryou's, on the other hand, were a soft warm brown, and were huge, like a baby deer's eyes. Add that to his little kid voice and Marik just knew he was going to be smothered in the kids cuteness before too long.

Bakura sighed, breaking Marik out of his thoughts and then did something that shocked the blonde; he drew the boy closer and _hugged_ him. No, not just hugged. He held the kid like he was the most precious thing in the world. And, Marik reasoned, to Bakura, he probably was.

"Don't cry, Ryou, you're too old for that. Why don't you go upstairs and change out of your pajamas? I'll make you a snack, okay?"

Ryou nodded and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"Okay, Daddy," he said, finally catching sight of Marik. Shyly, he ducked behind his father's legs and stared at the strange person with the tan skin and blonde hair who was standing in the middle of the living room.

"Uh...hi," Marik said, noticing the way the kid was staring at him. Ryou immediately buried his face in Bakura's jeans, not answering. Bakura sighed and peeled the child off of him.

"Ryou, this is Marik," Bakura said slowly, patting Ryou's head. "He's here to help Daddy with schoolwork, okay? Be polite."

"...Hi," Ryou said softly, stepping behind Bakura's legs as soon as the syllable left his mouth. Bakura rubbed his forehead.

"Forgive him, he's very shy around...others," Bakura said. "Ryou, go get dressed, okay?"

"Okay." Ryou stepped out from behind Bakura's legs and slowly sidestepped around Marik, not taking his eyes off the blonde until he was safely upstairs. Bakura ran a hand through his hair and smirked at Marik.

"Well, I guess the rumors were true after all, weren't they, Marik? But just how much is true? And how far are you willing to go to find out?"

"...What?" Okay, this guy was definitely on drugs, or had been on drugs at some point in his life. Bakura shrugged.

"Let's go into the kitchen," he suggested. "The lighting's a bit better, and I can heat something up for Ryou. He hasn't eaten all day."

"Why not?" Marik asked, following Bakura into the kitchen.

"Oh, he sleeps all day," Bakura responded, going to the fridge. Reaching inside, he pulled out a plastic container holding what looked like chunks of meat floating in a substance that looked suspiciously like blood. "He usually wakes up around the time I get home, and I make him some lunch."

"You don't get a babysitter for him? Or put him in daycare for the day?" Normally Marik wouldn't bother with so many questions about something that wasn't his business, but for some reason he felt...concerned for the child.

"I can't afford to pay a babysitter or a daycare every day to take care of him, and why bother when all he does all day is sleep? Besides, Ryou has..._special_ needs. Needs that a babysitter or a daycare wouldn't be able to provide," Bakura said, setting the container in the microwave.

"Still, it's dangerous to leave a little kid alone all day. What if someone broke in? This place is creepy, but it's still pretty ritzy-looking. People may think you have something expensive in here. And what of there was a fire?"

"My son knows how to handle himself in certain situations," was all Bakura said. Marik sighed impatiently. This was getting him nowhere.

"And what the hell is that stuff you're making him? And how can you have a microwave and a fridge if you don't have electricity?!" Nothing was adding up, and Marik was getting more creeped out by the second. The sooner he could get out of this crazy house, the better.

Bakura glanced at Marik out of the corner of his eye and narrowed his eyes.

"...You ask far too many questions, my friend." The microwave beeped, making Marik jump. Bakura took now-steaming container out and placed it on the table.

"As for what this is, well, my son is a very picky eater. He got that particular trait from his mother." Now why did Bakura glance at him and smile when he said that? "He doesn't eat pasta, but he loves meat and the sauce that goes with pasta. The only thing I can make him eat without a fight is Spaghetti-O's with meatballs, without the spaghetti part. It's not easy to do, but if it gets him to sit down and be quiet for twelve seconds, I'll go through a can and take out all the pasta bits." Bakura glanced at the doorway and chuckled. "And speak of the devil."

Marik turned. Ryou was peeking into the room shyly, not making any move to enter. Bakura smiled slightly.

"Come on, Ryou, your lunch is ready."

Shyly, and watching Marik the entire time, Ryou stepped into the room. His outfit made Marik's eyebrows shoot up to the ceiling. The kid was dressed like an 19th-century aristocrat! He was wearing a dark grey waistcoat over a white collared shirt, black trousers, and was that actually a little black bow tie?! The outfit would have looked weird on any other kid, but for Ryou, it would have been weirder for him to have come in wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Somehow, the look suited Ryou.

Ryou climbed onto his chair and stared at the food Bakura had heated up. Almost immediately, he pulled a face.

"Ryou..." Bakura said warningly. Ryou looked at Bakura, looked at Marik, looked back at his lunch, and started eating. Bakura sighed and sat down across the table, nodding for Marik to do the same.

"Well, shall we get started?"

"Might as well," Marik said, pulling out his math book.

For a little while, things went quite well. Bakura seemed to be grasping some of the easier math concepts, and Ryou was being very quiet, eating his food. No, not eating, Marik realized, peeking at the four-year-old out of the corner of his eye. He was just scooping up spoonfuls and dumping them back into the bowl, pouting slightly. Bakura realized this around the same time as Marik.

"Ryou," he said. "Eat that, don't play with it."

"Don't want it."

Bakura set down his pencil and rubbed his eyes with his palms, dragging his hands down his face in obvious frustration.

"All right, then. What _do_ you want?"

"Nothin'."

"Ryou, you haven't eaten all day. You need to eat _something_."

"Don't wanna."

Bakura sighed, clearly reaching his limits. "Fine, you don't have to eat then, but you do need to be quiet, okay?"

"I wanna color." Ryou hopped off his chair and walked out of the kitchen, causing Bakura to sigh half in relief and half in frustration.

"Kids," he muttered as Ryou returned with a box of crayons. The child set the crayons on the table and then proceeded to try and climb onto Bakura's lap.

"Ryou, _no_. Daddy's busy. Go play somewhere else."

"But I wanna color an' I gots no paper."

Bakura rolled his eyes up to the ceiling in aggravation and counted to ten under his breath.

"Fine. You can sit on my lap, but only color on _your_ paper, okay?"

"Okay." Ryou climbed up into Bakura's lap and proceeded to scribble on the piece of paper that his father put in front of him.

"Now, where were we?" Bakura said impatiently.

"Oh, right. So, like I was saying, to figure out the sides of a right triangle, you use the pythagorean theorem, which is basically two sides squared and added up to get the third side, as in a squared plus b squared equals c squared. The two shortest sides added up will always be equal to the third side, and...uh, Bakura?"

Bakura glanced down in irritation at the small child tugging on his shirt.

"What?" he snapped.

"I'm hungry."

"You just said that you weren't!"

"But I am _now_!" Ryou whined, pouting. Bakura growled, picking up Ryou and setting him on the floor.

"You're a pain in my ass, you know that?! Would it kill you to behave for just _once_ in your life?!" Bakura yelled, finally losing his temper.

Ryou burst into tears.

"I wish I was with Momma instead!" he yelled. Like a slap to the face, this simple phrase, from Marik's point of view, sobered Bakura up almost immediately.

"Ryou...no. No, don't say something like that, Ryou."

"I hate you! You're the worsest Daddy ever, and I wish I could be with Momma instead of you!" Ryou continued to sob. With a heavy sigh, Bakura picked up his son and held him close against his shoulder.

"I assume you can show yourself out?" he said without looking at Marik. Marik raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah."

"Good. I'll be seeing you tomorrow." Bakura headed for the stairs, still clutching his sobbing child. Marik scratched his head and picked up his bag.

"What a fucked-up guy," he muttered as he left. "Wonder what was so bad about his ex-girlfriend that he doesn't want the kid living with her..." He shook his head.

"Oh, no. We're not going there. You are not going to go snooping around this guy's personal life. You're doing this to graduate, not to make friends and not to get involved," he told himself.

_"But why do I get this sinking feeling that I'm going to get involved whether I like it or not?"_

* * *

**I hope this chapter meets with everyone's expectations. Mainly it was just to introduce Ryou into the story. Next chapter (hopefully) we'll be meeting our antagonist, who some people have probably already figured out! Yay!**

**R&R!**


	4. Chapter 3

Bakura lay in bed, staring at the darkened ceiling as he mulled over the day's events in his mind. It certainly hadn't one as he had planned. He had planned on giving Ryou his lunch - he couldn't help but snort slightly as he remembered how easily Marik had bought the whole "Spaghetti-O's without spaghetti" malarkey - then sending him off to another room to play so that he could talk to Marik, befriend him a little, gain his trust. Learn if he was truly who Bakura thought he was.

But that damn kid of his had to spoil it by acting like a brat. Looking back, Bakura had probably overreacted a bit. Ryou was still young, was getting to be quite a handful, and wasn't used to Bakura bringing strangers to the house. He wasn't used to Bakura not giving him all his attention after school, and probably figured that acting out was the only way he could get it. He couldn't possibly understand why this had gotten his father so mad at him.

"Daddy?" A soft voice made Bakura sit up. He looked down at his son.

"What is it, Ryou?" Ryou looked down and scuffed at the ground with his toe. Bakura made a mental note to buy him some more pajama's; they were getting pretty worn out.

"I sorry I makes you sad," Ryou said. "I don' really wanna be wif Momma." Bakura smiled slightly at his son. No matter what Ryou did, no matter how much of a pain in the ass he could be, Bakura just couldn't stay mad at him.

"Don't worry about it, Ryou," he said, uncharacteristically gentle. "I shouldn't have yelled at you like I did."

Ryou held his arms up and Bakura hesitated. If he let Ryou stay with him tonight, there was a good chance that his blanket-hog of a son wouldn't let him get any sleep. Not that he really _needed_ sleep, but after a few weeks his reflexes started to get sluggish and his senses dulled, especially if he hadn't fed in a while. Even after nearly 200 years, sleeping at night, among other things, was not something he was particularly used to, so he tried to get his rest whenever he possibly could.

Caving, Bakura picked up his son and set him down on the bed. Ryou crawled under the covers and snuggled up into a little ball, forming a makeshift cocoon for himself.

"How long have you been awake, little guy?" Bakura asked, doing some quick math in his head. He had put Ryou to bed shortly after Marik had left, around four. It was now getting close to one in the morning. If Ryou had been awake the whole time, there was a good chance that Bakura could make it through an entire school day. If not, Bakura would have to come home early, depending on how long Ryou slept. Ryou was too restless to be able to entertain himself until Bakura came home, and Bakura couldn't trust Ryou to stay away from the curtains and windows if he woke up early.

"All night. Not sleepy." Ryou's sentence was punctuated by a huge yawn. Bakura chuckled, relieved that he could go to school tomorrow without having to worry about his son.

"Sounds to me like you are pretty sleepy," he said. Ryou shook his head stubbornly and snuggled against his father's side. Bakura smiled slightly and tucked the blankets around Ryou as the child's eyes closed.

Bakura sighed. He loved his son, there was no denying that, but Ryou was getting to be too much of a handful for Bakura to handle on his own. Ryou needed a mother.

Thunder rumbled in the distance and Ryou's eyes popped open, jolted out of his dozing state. Whimpering, he crawled into Bakura's lap and nuzzled his face against his father's shirt.

"Daddy, tell the rumblies to stop," he whimpered. Bakura wrapped his arms around his trembling son, not sure of whether to sigh or laugh at his son's innocence.

"I would, but I don't think they'd listen to me," he said, rubbing Ryou's back. "But you can stay with Daddy until the storm stops, okay?"

"Okay..." Ryou snuggled closer to Bakura and yawned. Bakura closed his eyes, trying to count how many years it would be before Ryou would start acting...well, less like a child. He hadn't known that Ryou would age mentally at the same rate he aged physically. He had assumed that Ryou's mind would mature more rapidly with his body, that he would be able to have serious discussions with Ryou about his mother when he learned to talk. Unfortunately, this wasn't the case. Ryou was no different from any mortal four-year-old.

Well, aside from the fangs, but they weren't completely grown in yet.

Bakura shifted Ryou into a slightly more comfortable position, and suddenly became very aware of the wet spot on his son's pajamas.

"Ryou." The child opened his eyes.

"Yes, Daddy?"

"Did you come in here because you had an accident?"

Ryou was silent for a long time before letting out a tiny, nervous giggle.

"I sorry, Daddy..." Bakura groaned and stood up. Now he had to get Ryou cleaned up and find something for the kid to wear. So much for trying to get any sleep tonight.

"I spent the better part of a century potty-training you for a reason, kid. You're running out of pajamas."

"Sorry, Daddy," Ryou giggled. "I didn' mean to."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Bakura sighed. He had never pictured being a single father as quite so...difficult. Years of changing diapers, more of potty-training - which evidently hadn't worked - and trying to get his son to eat without argument were starting to take their toll on him. He needed to remind Marik of his true identity and change him - soon. He didn't know how much longer he could handle raising a half-vampire, half-mortal child alone. He never liked to admit when he needed help, but help was exactly what he needed at this time.

* * *

"_Oh, God, someone help me,_" was the only thought that Ran through Marik's mind the next day.

Word had somehow gotten out that he was tutoring Bakura, so when the albino freak _wasn't_ stalking him to all his classes, Marik was usually surrounded by a horde of downright nosy classmates, all clamoring to know the gruesome details.

"Is it true, does he really live in a haunted house?"

"Is the kid real? Did you see it, or was it locked in a closet somewhere?"

"Is he a cannibal? Did he invite you to stay for dinner?"

Marik did his best to avoid his overly curious classmates and their prying questions. Bakura may have been a freak, but he definitely didn't need any more rumors circulating about him. Especially since one of the pre-existing rumors was actually true. Marik was still trying to wrap his mind around that fact.

Bakura had a child. Bakura, the freak, the psycho, the outcast, had at some point..._known_ a woman intimately. The thought, quite frankly, freaked Marik out. And judging by Ryou's age, which appeared to be around four, Bakura had been around thirteen when it happened. That freaked Marik out even more.

The end of the day bell rang both too soon and not soon enough for Marik. He was anxious to get away from the bombardment of questions, but none too thrilled about having to spend another afternoon at Bakura's freaky house and having to deal with his freaky kid. With a heavy sigh, Marik gathered his books and headed to his locker. Might as well get it over with. He had survived one day, he could probably survive a second.

At his locker, Marik felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle, as if someone was watching him. His first thought was that it was Bakura, considering the guy was able to sneak up on him regularly without him noticing. But his hair never stood up when Bakura appeared, he just stood there until Marik caught sight of him. Against his better judgement, Marik turned his head slightly, trying to see if Bakura was standing nearby.

The person watching him was definitely not Bakura.

Black hair tied back in a ponytail and kept out of his face with a red and black headband, a single strand poking underneath to dangle between jade-green eyes. Uniform with the sleeves torn off in a way that was definitely against school dress code. Several bracelets and a dangling, dice-shaped earring. Marik swallowed and averted his eyes from Domino High's main player, the one and only Duke Devlin.

Devlin was the main reason Marik detested jokes about his sexuality, because Duke Devlin had been the only person to ever make him actually _question_ it. Marik was open to the idea that he could be bi, or even flat-out gay, but he didn't feel that it was especially fair for the guys in his school to tease him about it. It wasn't as if he had ever felt anything more than appreciation for a guy's looks before, and besides, Duke's eyes could turn anyone gay if they looked at them long enough.

Marik had bumped into Duke - literally - only once, in eighth grade. Marik, in his rush to get home, had run head-on into Duke. When Marik looked up to apologize, he had been hit full-force by the intensity of Duke's emerald gaze. Ever since then, Marik had been unable to convince himself that he was completely straight.

He risked another glance. Duke was still staring at him, an odd little smirk on his perfect face, which grew when he saw Marik watching him, and he winked. Marik quickly looked behind him; obviously there was a girl standing somewhere down the hall and Duke had made eye contact with her.

"Hey." Marik jumped and turned back around. Duke had straightened up from his lounging position against the wall and was approaching Marik. "It's Marik, right? Marik Ishtar?"

"Yeah. That's me," Marik responded, surprising himself by sounding so calm. Duke smirked.

"You know me, of course." It wasn't a question. Everyone in school knew who Duke Devlin was. "I remember you." He was closer now, and Marik could smell his cologne. He used way too much and Marik had to fight the urge to crinkle his nose. "Eighth grade. I was on my way to detention when you bumped into me. My fault, of course. I thought you were gorgeous back then, but now..." Devlin leaned against the locker next to Marik's, those damn eyes wandering up and down his body. "Damn." Duke grinned.

Jeez. This guy was laying it on thick, Marik thought. But one glance at Duke and Marik felt his heart quicken just a bit, oh yes, he was definitely just a little bit gay for Duke.

"Marik!" The blond turned, a bit irked to see Bakura walking toward them. The albino stopped and glared at Duke. "Are you coming, Marik? I need to get home before..." Bakura trailed off, but Marik knew that he had been about to say "before Ryou wakes up."

"Oh, don't get jealous, Touzokou," Duke said, raising an eyebrow. "Marik and I were just discussing our plans for Friday."

"We were?" Marik blurted out. Duke chuckled slightly.

"Of course we were. Marik won't be able to tutor you Friday, Bakura. We're partners for the science project, and we need to do research for it."

"Bullshit," Bakura said, narrowing his eyes. "How can you be partners for a science project that hasn't been assigned yet?" Duke smirked (he was quite good at that, Marik noted).

"Let's just say I know the teacher well enough to convince her to let Marik and myself work together." Duke turned his attention back to Marik and winked at him. "See you Friday, Marik."

"Yeah. Sure, okay." Marik smiled slightly to himself as he watched Duke walk away. He wasn't entirely sure what had just happened, but for some reason, he didn't care. Duke Devlin had basically asked him out on a study date. Duke had apparently taken an interest in him and that was all that Marik cared about.

With a growl, Bakura grabbed Marik's wrist and dragged him down the hall, snapping Marik out of his reverie.

"Ow, hey! Let go!" He tried to pry his arm out of Bakura's grip, but the albino merely tightened his grip.

"Are you seriously going to hang out with that creep?" Marik blinked, startled by the abruptness of the question.

"Well, if we're partners for the science project, I don't really think I have much of a choice," Marik said. "And besides, what's it to you if I hang out with him. Last time I checked, you weren't in charge of who I'm friends with."

Bakura whirled around and shoved Marik up against a locker. Marik yelped, more out of surprise than anything. Bakura was still gripping his wrist quite painfully and was holding it against the cold metal of the locker. Bakura's face was inches from Marik's own, and his free hand was braced against the locker next to Marik's waist. The blond was glad that the hallway was deserted; he definitely didn't want anyone to see them like this.

"Marik, listen to me," Bakura growled. "That guy is nothing but bad news. Trust me. Not just him, his whole family. The whole lot of them are nothing but trouble. It's in their blood. You can't trust them. Just...be careful around him. I...I don't want to see you get hurt."

Marik stared at Bakura. He was gazing at Marik in a way that should have made the blond feel uncomfortable, but didn't. Marik almost felt...relaxed, this close to Bakura. He suddenly caught himself wondering what it would be like to kiss Bakura, to tutor him in more than just math. Catching his breath, Marik broke their stare before anymore thoughts like those could enter his mind.

"Get off me," he muttered. Bakura complied, but allowed his hand to linger against Marik's for a half-second longer. "Let's just go." Marik briskly strode towards the double doors of the school, Bakura following slightly behind him.

_"What the hell was that?"_ Marik thought, making sure his face stayed blank so as not to reveal his thoughts. "_What is his deal? Is he...jealous? Is that why he doesn't want me to listen to Duke?"_ The thought of Bakura crushing on him should have repulsed Marik, but instead he felt rather...proud. Two highly attractive boys - for, when you took a moment to look at him, Marik thought, giving Bakura an appreciative glance out of the corner of his eye, Bakura _was_ rather good-looking - were possibly crushing on him, and one of them was apparently more than willing to fight the other for him. Marik smirked.

"_Maybe there are some perks to this whole tutoring thing after all," _he thought.

* * *

**I hope you all liked this chapter. I mainly wanted to use it to introduce the antagonist, who, as many people figured out, is in fact Duke. Nothing personal against him, he was just the first person who came to mind. I don't dislike Duke as much as I have in the past, but he's still not one of my favorites.**

**Updates will probably be kind of off and on for a while depending on how much free time I get. The cast list for my school play goes up tomorrow, so that'll take up a lot of my time, but rehearsals don't start until January, so I hope to get at least one more chapter up in December.**

**R&R, please!**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: And I present unto you all...an update! Please enjoy it, I don't know how good it is!**

* * *

"Ishtar!" Marik jerked his head up, drawn out of his daydream by his (very angry) science teacher.

"What? Oh, um, sorry," he muttered. The teacher squinted at him.

"I don't know what was going on in my head when I made you and Devlin partners for this project. You two are the biggest procrastinators in the school! Tell me, Ishtar, do you think you'll be able to stay awake long enough to present to the class when the time comes? Or should I set a pillow and a blanket at the front of the room for you?"

Marik felt his face heat up at the giggles of his classmates. Glaring at the teacher, he responded,

"Nah, it's your lessons that put me to sleep in the first place."

"Watch that smart mouth of yours, boy, before I give you detention."

Marik scoffed, choosing not to answer, and as soon as the teacher resumed reading out the pairs for the project, tuned him out once again.

Duke caught his eye from across the classroom and winked. Marik smiled in return. Duke definitely laid the charm on as thick as he possible could, but Marik couldn't help but fall for it. Something about the way Duke looked at him, as if he were the only person in the world.

Well, somewhere between that and a slab of prime beef, anyway.

Marik felt a presence walking beside him after class ended, and he definitely didn't need psychic powers to tell him who it was.

"Hey," Duke said, leering at him out of the corner of his eye. "Think you can sneak away from your escort on Friday long enough to tutor me instead?" Marik laughed, silently cursing himself for acting like one of the freshman girls who giggled at everything their crush said.

"I might be able to shake him off," he replied. "Although I think 'stalker' would be a better term than 'escort'."

"'Stalker'?" Duke repeated. He paused and glanced down the hall, as if expecting to see Bakura following them. "What do you mean?"

"He just shows up, no matter what class I have, he's always there afterwards. Well, almost always. I never noticed until I started tutoring him, but he's always staring at me, too." Marik paused at his locker, forcing Duke to halt as well.

"Then again, I'm probably just imagining things." Marik glanced at Duke and smiled slyly. "Maybe he's just lonely, I mean he doesn't have any real friends."

Duke grabbed Marik's shoulders and turned him around, pushing him against the lockers. Marik blinked, surprised by this reaction. He had been trying to get Duke jealous by talking about Bakura, but he had expected a more laid-back reaction.

Duke stared at Marik, emerald eyes sparking. Then he slowly leaned forward. Marik swallowed. Was he-? Was Duke going to-?

Marik closed his eyes, unsure of what, exactly to expect. Duke leaned forward so that his hot breath washed over Marik's ear, making the teen shiver.

"Make sure you wear something nice on Friday, Marik," Duke whispered. "And make sure we won't be disturbed."

Marik gulped and nodded furiously, already thinking of ways to keep his brother and sister from bothering them. Duke pulled away - leaving Marik feeling disappointed and slightly cheated - turning to smirk at someone over his shoulder.

"Oh, why, hello, Bakura!" he said, false sincereness invading his tone. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Bakura let out a low growl, not moving from his position approximately ten feet away, instead choosing to peer around Duke to look at Marik.

"Marik, I have to leave early today, but I'll be home. You remember where my house is, I presume?"

"Y-yeah," Marik stuttered, still in a bit of a fog.

"Good. I will be seeing you after school then."

"Uh, yeah, okay."

With a harsh glare at Duke, Bakura stalked off. Duke watched him go, making sure he was gone, before turning back to Marik.

"Well, we'd best be off to our respective classes. And so, I bid you a fond farewell." Duke swept into an elaborate mock bow and smirked. "And don't forget our plans for tomorrow."

* * *

Marik stared up at Bakura's Addams family reject mansion. He sighed, dreaming of places he would much rather be as he walked up the steps and knocked on the door. The Bahamas, science class, "studying" with Duke...

The door opened and Bakura stared at Marik. The stared at each other for a while before Marik awkwardly spoke up.

"Erm...hi," he said. Bakura nodded and gestured for him to come inside.

"I saw you speaking with Duke earlier. Perhaps a bit _more_ than speaking?" Bakura raised an eyebrow at Marik, who felt his face flush.

"W-well, we're partners. For the science project. W-we were just...discussing our study plans."

Bakura let out a low growl.

"So you're actually hanging out with that guy?" he hissed.

"Well, yeah. I have no reason not to. I don't know what kind of grudge you harbor against him, but it doesn't concern me, so frankly, I don't care."

"You _should_ care!" Bakura glared at Marik, his eyes blazing. "Marik, please, listen to me. You can't trust him. You just can't."

Marik was dumbfounded. It sounded almost like desperation was creeping into Bakura's voice, although he was doing a good job of trying to conceal it.

"And what, I'm supposed to trust _you_ instead?" Marik demanded, finding his voice. "I barely _know_ you!"

Bakura recoiled as if he'd been slapped. He stared at Marik for a long moment before turning away.

"Come on, we need to get started," he muttered.

They went into the kitchen and Marik noticed an empty bowl across from an open textbook.

"I figured I would do a bit of studying while Ryou was eating," Bakura said, grabbing the bowl and dropping it into the sink. He paused, and seemed to be listening to something Marik couldn't hear.

"Ryou," he called suddenly. "I know you aren't coloring on the walls in there."

There was a startled squeak and Ryou shyly peeked around the corner, clutching the stump of a blue crayon in his fist.

"Sorry, Daddy," he mumbled. Bakura sighed.

"Why don't you come color in here, where I can keep an eye on you?" he said sternly. Knowing better than to argue, Ryou scampered into the room, giving Marik a wide berth as usual, and climbed up onto his chair, emptying his pockets of crayons. Bakura slapped down a piece of paper and Ryou started scribbling away. Bakura sat across from him and gestured for Marik to do the same.

"Well, shall we get started?"

The next hour went was fairly uneventful. Ryou colored away, his brow creased with concentration over his scribbles, and Bakura seemed to be picking up on the formulas easily.

Almost too easily.

"Well," Marik said as Bakura barely glanced at a problem before writing down the correct answer. "You seem to be grasping this stuff pretty fast for a guy who was borderline failing."

"Oh, this is just easier than the other stuff," Bakura replied, crossing out the answer he had written and replacing it with a wrong answer. Marik had the feeling he did it on purpose.

Ryou let out a yawn that seemed to big for him, rubbing his eyes.

"You're not getting sleepy, are you Ryou?" The tone with which Bakura posed this question surprised Marik. Instead of the gentle, teasing tone most parents would take, Bakura sounded exasperated, almost as if he were dreading the answer.

"Uh-huh." Another surprise. Most kids would deny sleepiness until they were tucked into bed, and even then would refuse it for as long as they could.

Bakura let out a weary sigh and looked at Marik.

"Pardon me for one moment," he said. Getting up, he scooped up Ryou and carried him upstairs, muttering something under his breath.

From across the table, Marik noticed the scrap of paper Ryou had been busily scribbling away on. He half-wondered what the brat had been drawing and leaned forward for a closer look. It was hard to tell upside-down, but he could see streaks of yellow, a few splotches of black, and lots of red.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he flipped the paper over to get a better look. What he saw chilled him.

A blonde-haired figure - a woman by the looks of the outfit - was being cut to pieces by a group of people who had been colored all in black. She was staring at two figures running away and, judging from the blue splotches on her face, was crying.

Marik shoved the picture away, heart pounding. Normal little kids didn't draw things like that. Normal little kids weren't supposed to avoid sunlight. Normal little kids didn't willingly agree to go to sleep.

He may have been only four, but Bakura's son was fucked-up. Big time.

"Sorry about that." Marik jumped as Bakura re-entered the room. "He didn't want to change into his pj's, he just wanted to sleep. I told him he couldn't sleep in his clothes and he got whiny..."

"Bakura." Marik bit his tongue, but it was too late. Bakura swung his head around and locked gazes with him.

"...Yes, Marik?"

"Er, it's about Ryou."

"...Ryou?" Bakura leaned towards Marik, slightly excited. "Yes? What about Ryou?" Marik nervously shifted away slightly, a bit unnerved by Bakura's excitement.

"Well, is he alright?"

Confusion graced Bakura's features for a second.

"Well, yes. He just got tired, Marik. You know how children are, they eat, they play, they get tired..." Bakura's hand was slowly edging across the edge of the table, towards Marik's. Marik quickly set both of his hands in his lap.

"No, I mean...is he alright...here?" Marik tapped the side of his head with his finger. Bakura's face crumpled into confusion.

"...What are you talking about?"

"Well, your son was drawing _this_." Marik brandished the crudely drawn murder scene. Bakura stared at it for a long moment before forcing a laugh.

"Oh. Don't worry about that. It's nothing." He took the paper from Marik and crumpled it up, throwing it over his shoulder.

"Nothing?! I'm sorry, but your kid drew a picture of a girl getting ripped to pieces by a bunch of faceless creatures!" Bakura ignored him, picking up his pencil and beginning to write out the formulas they had been studying. Marik sighed, aggravated.

"Listen, Touzokou, no offense meant, but I really don't feel comfortable being in a house with an insane kid!"

The pencil lead snapped. Bakura stared at it for a long moment before dragging his face up to Marik's.

"...I beg your pardon?"

"I'm sorry, but there really isn't any other explanation! Your kid's fucking _insane_!"

"There is nothing wrong with my son," Bakura growled. Marik blinked; Bakura's eyes almost seemed to be glowing red. But that was impossible.

"Normal kids don't draw things like that, Bakura!"

"Shut up! There's nothing wrong with him!" Bakura glowered at him. "He just remembered a dream he had and was drawing it, that's it! And if it makes you feel _safer_-" he snarled out the word "-I've already had him checked out!"

Marik blinked, at a loss for words. Well, what could one say when their..._acquaintance_...had just admitted to having their four-year-old child tested for insanity? Granted, Marik couldn't blame him, but still, it was just unusual to hear Bakura admit it.

With a frustrated growl, Bakura slipped his paper into his folder and shoved it towards Marik.

"I think we'd best stop for the night," he spat. Marik nodded.

"I think that would be for the best."

"Look, about Ryou..." Bakura sighed, running one hand through his hair. "He doesn't usually sleep...well, what I mean is when he falls asleep...look, I probably won't be at school tomorrow because he went to bed so early. You can still stop by after school, though. I'll be here."

"Well..." Marik hesitated; he wasn't looking forward to bringing this up, but it seemed Bakura had forgotten, so it was up to him. "The thing is...well, Duke is coming over to my house tomorrow, for the project."

Bakura stiffened and Marik hurried to continue.

"But, I mean, we shouldn't take too long, so I can stop by after so you and I can study, if you want."

Bakura fixed Marik with a cold look that he couldn't read, his eyes still appearing to glow.

"You know what, Marik?" Bakura said. "Just forget it."

* * *

**Aaaand this would be why I don't decide at midnight that I'm going to write fanfiction with only a jumbo jar of Tootsie Rolls (my cousin gave it to me for Christmas because I kept stealing them out of his lunch box) to keep me going. This chapter could rock, or it could freakin' suck, I'm too tired to honestly tell. If it ends up being good, great, now I know when to write my fanfics. If not, well, live and learn. **

**I have church in the morning, too, and then I'm going to see Les Miserables with my friend right after, so I can't even nap after. After pulling an all-nighter last night, this was not one of my better ideas.**

**R&R, please!**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Just a random thing, I usually don't have music playing while I write, but for some reason, I thought that I'd give it a shot. I listened to "Your Daddy's Son" from Ragtime and the Ruthie Henshall version of "Children Will Listen" from Into The Woods. And this is the result. I don't know if the music influenced the writing, or if the writing influenced me to listen to certain music, but either way, I hope you enjoy this.**

* * *

Bakura stormed upstairs, Ryou's drawing clutched in his fist so tightly his knuckles were turning white. He didn't care that his son would be dead to the world by now, the brat had a lot of explaining to do.

Bakura threw open the door to Ryou's bedroom and stomped over to the bed. He roughly shook his son's shoulder.

"Wake up!" he snarled. Ryou whined, pushing Bakura away before sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Daddy, I was sleepin'!" he whined, pouting up at his father. Bakura ignored him, shoving the crudely-drawn picture into Ryou's face.

"What. Is. This?" he demanded. Ryou stared at the picture for a long moment before suddenly becoming very interested in his blankets.

"Ryou! Do _not_ ignore me! What is this? What did you draw here?!" Ryou started picking at a loose thread in his blanket.

"...It's my Momma," he finally said in a small voice. "When the bad people killed her."

Just as Bakura thought. He crumpled up the picture as he clenched his fists.

"Ryou. Look at me."

Slowly, Ryou dragged his gaze up to his father's face. Bakura was angry, and it was plain to see. Usually Bakura was able to keep his emotions in check, especially when Ryou was involved, but his tensions were already high from Ryou needing an early bedtime, and then Marik having the nerve to question whether or not Ryou was actually sane...Bakura gritted his teeth.

"Ryou, listen. This is _not_ a picture of your mother. Understand? It's just a bad dream you had."

"Yes it is!" Ryou yelled. "It is so my Momma!"

"No, Ryou, it isn't. You don't remember her."

"Yes I do so!" Ryou insisted, practically crying by this point. "I do 'member her! I 'member her, and the bad people that killed her cuz of me!"

_SMACK_

The sound of the slap seemed to echo through the empty house. With huge, tear-filled eyes, Ryou raised a shaky hand to his cheek, which was already reddening. Even Bakura was surprised by his own actions. In two centuries, he had never, _ever_ raised a hand against Ryou before. Raised his voice, yes, but he had never hit his son.

Damn it. Things were starting to spiral out of his control.

Bakura took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. He sat down on the bed and pulled Ryou into his lap, pressing his son's face into his chest.

"Ryou, I need you to listen very carefully, okay? You were a baby, you weren't even half a day old. There's no possible way you could remember your mother. You just took the stories I told you about her, combined them with any dreams you may have had and created a false mental image of her. And I _never_ want to hear you say that it was your fault she was killed, understand? It wasn't your fault."

Bakura held his son tighter, earning a small squeak from Ryou as he was crushed uncomfortably against his father.

"You had nothing to do with her death, Ryou. I promise."

Ryou nodded hesitantly.

"Okay," he said quietly. "I understand, Daddy."

Bakura sighed, setting Ryou back into bed and pulling the blankets over him.

"I'm sorry I had to wake you. Why don't you go back to sleep, okay? I'm staying home tomorrow, so we can spend the day doing something together, okay?"

"Okay." Ryou snuggled under the blankets. "Is your friend comin' over tomorrow, too?"

"...No. He has other plans." Bakura ruffled Ryou's hair and stood up. "Get some sleep."

"I love you, Daddy."

Bakura paused, one hand on the doorknob.

"...I love you, too, Ryou," he murmured. "Go to sleep."

Bakura closed the door behind him and went downstairs as quietly as he could.

"_Damn!"_ He threw his fist into the nearest wall, instantly regretting this action as the ancient material crumbled. Well. He had been meaning to do some renovations, anyway.

Bakura sat down on the couch and ran his fingers through his hair, aggravated. He didn't know when or why Ryou had come to the conclusion that he had caused his mother's death, but hearing him - a _four-year-old child _- blame himself for the murder of the only woman Bakura had ever loved...it was too much. It was made even worse by the fact that Bakura was only reminded of her everytime he looked at Ryou. Ryou may have looked like a miniaturized clone of Bakura, but there was one glaring difference between the two; Ryou wasn't shy about smiling about everything that made him happy.

And, out of all things he could have inherited, Ryou had her exact smile.

If he thought hard about it, Bakura could easily picture her, even after all this time. He could see her, clear as day in his mind's eye; her laughing at something he said that she found foolish, her teasing him for being so concerned about her all the time, her golden hair splayed out on the pillow, violet eyes locked with his as her breathing evened out...

But it was becoming harder to remember. As each day went on, he could feel her, little by little, leaving his memories. He doubted he would ever forget her, he didn't think it was possible to ever forget one's mate, but soon...he would not remember what she smelled like, he would forget the warmth of her skin, he would be unable to recall the sound of her voice.

Time was running out.

Bakura gritted his teeth, forcing down the lump that was threatening to rise in his throat. He had tried many years ago to shut down his emotions, especially since Ryou was getting older and was more apt to notice when his father was upset, but even he was unable to completely stifle his emotions. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, drawing in a shaky breath as he felt tears start to pool.

"I'm sorry, Marik," he whispered. "It's my fault you died." He bowed his head, allowing the tears to fall freely.

"It's all my fault."

* * *

**So, yeah, this chapter is a bit shorter than the previous ones, but I have an explanation for that. Originally, this was going to be just an intro for chapter 6, and I was going to have a bit of the Marik/Duke "study date" to finish it off, but I am completely stumped for how to do that part! I already know that they'll be at Marik's house, and I know how part of it is gonna go (no spoilers here) but I have no clue how to begin or how to build up to the middle/ending part! I was hoping that once I got through the first part of the chapter, I'd get on a roll and get a great idea, but I have nothing! If anyone has any ideas, I'd be glad to hear them, so please, leave them in a review, or send me a message or something!**

**I really am sorry for the shortness of this chapter. Please just consider this a filler, and I hope that the next chapter will be a bit longer and not quite so disappointing.**

**R&R, please!**


	7. Chapter 6

School couldn't end soon enough for Marik on Friday. He couldn't tell if he was excited or nervous; after all, he didn't exactly know _what_ the afternoon was going to bring, but he rather liked the squirming feeling he got in the pit of his stomach whenever he thought about Duke in his bedroom, with him. Alone. For who knows how long.

Finally, the bell that symbolized the end of school and the beginning of the weekend went off and Marik was free. He bolted out of the classroom and made a beeline for his locker, where he and Duke were going to meet up, only to be stopped by the voice of someone he knew and hated very well.

"Ishtar!"

Joey Wheeler.

With a groan, Marik turned around.

"What do you want, Wheeler? I'd kind of like to get home before the weekend is over."

Joey, flanked by his dull-witted sidekick Tristan Taylor, stalked up to Marik, glaring.

"I've heard you've been pickin' on my buddy Yugi again."

Marik rolled his eyes.

"Do you believe everything you hear?" he sighed. "Did your little buddy tell you himself that I've been picking on him?"

"No-"

"There you go. Case closed. Goodbye and have a nice session at anger management therapy."

"Not so fast," Joey growled as Marik turned to walk away. "Just because Yug' hasn't said so himself, it don't mean you haven't been messin' with him."

"Yugi doesn't say anything bad about anyone," Tristan spoke up. "He probably thinks if he doesn't tell, you'll have a change of heart and stop."

"Wow, you actually _can_ talk," Marik said, acting genuinely surprised. "Look, idiots, I hate to disappoint, but I'm a bit too wrapped up in my own life to think about messing with the midget's. I haven't even _seen_ Yugi in the past couple days, so if you don't mind-"

"Listen, gay boy, you'd better not pick on our friend anymore."

Marik stiffened. He dragged his eyes up and locked them with Joey's.

"...What."

"Don't pull that whole 'I'm-straight' crap," Joey snorted. "I can tell a fag when I see one."

"I am not gay!"

"Why don't you just come out of the closet already?" Tristan interjected. "Everyone knows you're sleeping with that freak Bakura when you go to 'tutor' him. God, you're such a fag and it's obvious to everyone!"

Marik felt his hands curling into fists. The hallway seemed to fade out around him. _That_ was what people were saying? That he and Bakura were fuck-buddies? That was the thanks he got for trying to graduate and do a good deed at the same time? Hell, for all he knew, Bakura could've actually started the rumors to try and gain a better reputation.

"Hey, Marik, what held you up?"

Marik snapped out of his reverie at the sound of Duke's voice. The raven-haired boy stepped up beside Marik and eyed Joey and Tristan. Deciding they weren't worth his time, he focused on the Egyptian.

"Come on, we'd best get going."

"Jeez..." Joey muttered. "Just how many boyfriends do you _have_?!"

"Say, Joey." Duke glanced at the lanky teen from the corner of his eye. "How's your sister doing?"

Joey stiffened, his hands clenching into fists. He looked like he was about to slug Duke, but instead turned stiffly.

"Let's go," he muttered to Tristan. The brown-haired boy shot Marik one last glare before following his friend in confusion. Marik glanced at Duke, equally confused.

"What the hell was that about?" he asked. Duke shrugged.

"He's way over-protective of his little sister. I figured bringing her up would get him to back off."

"Oh. That was...smart."

"Thank you. Now, as I recall, we had a study date planned at your place, didn't we?"

Marik drew half of his mouth up into a smile.

"We did. I feel I should warn you though, my older brother and little sister are...kinda weird. They should leave us alone, but don't be too surprised if they don't, especially my sister."

"Oh, don't worry, Marik," Duke said, holding the door open so that Marik could walk through. "I've faced much weirder than nosy siblings."

* * *

Marik considered it a blessing that Ishizu preferred doing her homework on Fridays as opposed to over the weekend. Hopefully it would keep the twelve-year-old occupied until Duke left. She had glanced up when Marik and Duke made a detour through the living room, only to crinkle her nose and resume her homework.

Once in Marik's room, Duke immediately sat on Marik's bed and grinned at him.

"Well," he said, cracking open his textbook. "Shall we get started?"

A full hour and a half had passed before either of them realized the time.

"I should probably be getting home," Duke said, slamming his book closed. "My dad freaks out if I'm out after dark."

"Yeah, because _Domino_ is the most dangerous city in the world," Marik said, rolling his eyes. Duke fixed him with a piercing stare that made Marik almost forget what he was saying.

"There are lots of dangerous things in the night, Marik," Duke murmured seriously. "The dark makes it worse because you can't see them."

Marik blinked, at a complete loss for words.

"Um..."

"Nevermind. Say..." Duke leaned forward with a slight grin. "Your eyes look gorgeous in this light..."

"Uh, thanks?" Was all Marik could manage before Duke gently connected their lips.

Marik could remember his first kiss as if it were yesterday. He had been four years old - Ryou's age, now that he thought about it - and a girl with blue eyes and a pretty yellow ribbon in her hair (he couldn't recall her name, she had switched schools in eighth grade) had approached him at day care and informed him that they were dating. Before he had time to say "No, thanks," she had stepped up to him and kissed him.

Looking back, it was just an innocent little peck, but to a four-year-old, it was worse than death. He had run away from her, screaming his head off about cooties and making a beeline for the water fountain, practically drowning himself in his desperation. He recalled trying to squirt hand sanitizer down his throat, but an assistant at the day care had put a stop to that. He had even made Odion give him a cootie shot when he got home.

The next day, he had told the girl he wasn't interested by stealing her ribbon at nap time and cutting her hair.

He certainly did not intend to freak out like that now.

The kiss was innocent, definitely not what he had expected from the likes of Duke Devlin. He didn't shove his tongue into Marik's mouth, he didn't pin Marik against the headboard and start grinding on him. It was soft, just the slightest brushing of their lips, but it made Marik's head fuzzy and his heart leap just the same.

Until Joey and Tristan's irritable voices started playing through his mind like a recording...

"_God, you're such a _fag _and it's obvious to everyone!"_

_"Listen, _gay boy,_ you'd better not pick on our friend anymore."_

_"Just how many _boyfriends _do you have?!"_

Marik broke away from the kiss abruptly, startling Duke.

"What's wrong?" the black-haired boy asked.

"Um..." Marik was trying to figure out the nicest way possible to say he wasn't sure he swung "that way" when Duke narrowed his emerald eyes slightly.

"You shouldn't care so much about what other people think," he said. "If it feels right, it can't be wrong, right?"

"I..." Marik hesitated. He was having a hard time thinking clearly. He felt oddly conflicted about the exchange. It _did_ feel right...but it felt not right at the same time, as if he could get used to kissing guys, but not Duke.

He was starting to wonder if he would have been better off going to Bakura's house after all.

"I...I think I just need some time to think," Marik finally said. He knew it was the wrong thing to say almost as soon as he said it. Duke let out a frustrated sigh.

"Fine. Think about it. Next Friday we'll get together to study again."

"Okay, that'll work."

Duke stood up and stretched.

"I'll see you in school," he said. Marik watched him leave and let out a huge breath of air.

"Jeez...why do I always wind up paired off with the weirdos?!"

* * *

"You didn't want your boyfriend to stay for dinner?"

Marik choked, pounding on his chest to dislodge the bit of food that had tried to go down his windpipe. He looked at his sister in bewilderment.

"Duke is _not_ my boyfriend!" he said.

"Good. I didn't like him. You could do better than that," Ishizu said, as if this were something that was discussed every night. Marik looked at Odion in aggravation.

"Are you sure I can't sell her to, like, the circus or something? I'm sure the freak show could always use more."

"You're not selling your sister," Odion said. "The circus wouldn't pay enough anyway."

"But you do like him, don't you?" Ishizu asked. "I mean, in a more than just friends sense."

"Wha- No! No, I do not!" Marik said, lying through his teeth. "I do not like boys in that way, sister." Ishizu looked at her older brother with as much sympathy as a twelve-year-old brainiac could muster.

"Marik, you're gay. It's fine if you haven't come to terms with it yet, it could be a really long time before you come to terms with it. But everyone knows it. It's pretty obvious."

"Obvious, wha- I'm not gay!" Marik cried. Ishizu shrugged, grabbing a slice of bread.

"You spend more time than I do in the bathroom just fixing your hair. Not to mention you tell us a week in advance that you're having a guy over and you don't want to be bothered, then you proceed to bring the guy to your room, closing and locking the door and you stayed in there for an obscene amount of time with very little work to be shown on this so-called "project" you two were working on. Bit of a red flag there."

Marik shot Odion a look, clearly asking for help. Odion raised one eyebrow.

"Don't look at me, I'm staying out of this," he said. "Although I will say that at work people always ask me how my _sisters _are doing."

Marik threw his hands into the air in frustration.

"Great. My whole family and half the school is against me. Just perfect."

"Marik, if that many people can see it, but you can't, you may want to consider an ocular evaluation," Ishizu said innocently.

"Oh, speak English for once!" Marik snapped, shoving his chair away from the table and getting up. He stormed up to his room, making sure to slam the door loud enough to carry.

"Damn it!" he screamed, kicking the side of his bed and instantly regretting it as his bare foot made contact with the hard wood. He sat down, his mind flying to the rumors Tristan had mentioned.

_"Everyone knows you're sleeping with that freak Bakura when you go to 'tutor' him."_

What is it?" he muttered, running his hands through his hair. "What is it about me that makes everyone automatically assume I'm gay?!"

Marik drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He didn't need to lose his head over this. So what if everyone thought he was gay? He could accept that maybe he wasn't entirely straight, but why would that necessarily make him _gay_? He had kissed Duke earlier - willingly - but that had just made him more confused than anything.

...Maybe a bit of harmless experimentation was in order.

"But with who?" Marik muttered. He immediately thought of asking Duke, but that idea died when he remembered how frustrated the green-eyed boy had been when Marik had reacted rather negatively to his advances.

_"Everyone knows you're sleeping with that freak Bakura."_

Marik lifted his head as the thought dawned on him. Bakura. The white-haired boy was obviously interested in him, and, although the thought creeped Marik out the slightest bit, would probably jump at the chance to allow Marik to kiss him.

Although the thought wasn't particularly unsettling, Marik desperately tried to think of another option and came up blank. Sighing, he dropped his head into his hands.

"Well, you wanna know, don't you?" he mumbled. "And there are worse people..."

With a groan, Marik flopped down onto his back, a plan starting to form in his mind.

Next time they saw each other, his white-haired classmate would be in for the shock of his life.

* * *

**This chapter fought being written tooth and claw the whole way through. I wrote it in bits and pieces and then threw in some stuff to make it all come together. I'm pretty pleased with the final outcome, except for the ending, which was the hardest thing to write. If it weren't quarter to midnight right now, I'd reward myself with a bubble bath, a fluffy bathrobe fresh from the dryer, a bag of popcorn and a can of Pepsi. Instead, I'm rewarding myself with the earliest bedtime I've had all week. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, so if you did, or even if you didn't, please leave a review and tell me what you think.**

**Oh, in case anyone's wondering, I decided to make Ishizu a little sister instead of an older sister for this story. She's twelve because, according to the manga, Ishizu is four years older than Marik, so I just made her four years younger instead. I owe credit to LadySunami for inspiring me to make Ishizu younger in the first place, due to reincarnations not always being exact clones of their predecessors. (I mean, look at Marik, she was reincarnated as a guy!)**

**(I find that the more tired I am when I finish these chapters, the more I seem to ramble on in my Author's Notes...)**


	8. Chapter 7

**Well, I am exceedingly sorry for the super-long wait, but I hope that the length of this chapter makes up for it a little bit. It's the longest chapter in this story so far, so I hope you all enjoy it.**

* * *

_Bakura was running. He was running faster than he had ever run before, yet he could tell that it still wasn't fast enough. Laughter - not his own - was ringing in his ears. Shrill, keening laughter._

_"Keep running," a voice taunted. "Run all you want, but it won't do you any good. We took your mate away from you once, and we'll do it all over again. Your son, too. Anyone you ever loved. They're doomed, just like you..."_

"Daddy?" Bakura's eyes shot open. He pushed himself up and ran one hand through his hair, trying to collect himself.

_"Figures,"_ he thought. "_The first good night's sleep I get in weeks and I wind up having a nightmare."_ He groaned, rubbing one hand across his eyes.

"Daddy?" Ryou piped up again, tugging on Bakura's sleeve. Bakura sighed.

"I can see you, Ryou. What are you doing up?"

"I don' feel good..."

Bakura sat upright.

"Don't feel good, _how_, exactly?"

"My tummy hurts, and I feel cold all over."

Bakura looked his son over. He was much paler than usual, and, although he said he felt cold, he was hot to the touch when Bakura picked him up. Ryou snuggled close to his father, who fought the urge to sigh. A nightmare he could handle, no problem. A sick child, on the other hand...

Bakura carried Ryou back to his room and set him in bed, tucking the blankets around him.

"Cold..." Ryou whined, curling up under the blankets.

"Sorry, little guy, we don't have any extra blankets," Bakura said. He sat down on the bed. "Now, Ryou, I want to know something. How, exactly, did you get sick?"

"Dunno," the child mumbled.

"Ryou, in over 200 years, you have never once gotten a fever before. Tell me, did you go outside at all?"

"No." Ryou shook his head and looked at Bakura. "Outside is bad, and it can hurt me. If I stay inside, I know I'm safe."

"...Right." Bakura made a brief mental note to watch what he said around his son. If Ryou picked up his phrases that easily, he didn't want to accidentally teach his son something he would regret.

"So, you didn't go outside? Not even when it was cloudy?"

"No, Daddy. I didn' go outside. I didn' even open the curtains." Ryou coughed, curling up into a little ball underneath the covers. Bakura placed one hand on his son's forehead, brow creasing in concern at the unnatural warmth.

"I just don't see how you could have gotten sick. You didn't go out, you didn't look out, and the house is protected, so no one could have gotten in without me letting them..." Bakura sighed. "I didn't know you were even able to be sick. He didn't tell me how to handle something like this."

"It's okay, Daddy. You do good as a daddy." Bakura fought back a laugh.

"At least someone thinks so," he muttered. He gnawed on his bottom lip, thinking. Most people would just bring a sick child to the doctor, but Bakura didn't have that luxury. Almost all clans had a healer, but considering Bakura had been ostracized from almost all clans for choosing a mortal as opposed to one of his own kind for a mate, that was out of the question as well.

"Ow!" Bakura had been so deep in thought that one of his fangs had accidentally pierced his lower lip. Absentmindedly, he licked the blood welling from the small wound and almost immediately, realization dawned on him.

Blood. Ryou needed blood. Adult vampires could last at most half a year without human blood, but children required it more often. Ryou, being only half-vampire, didn't need it quite as often as others did, but Bakura tried to supply him with it on a monthly basis. However, with the whole business with Marik, Bakura had completely neglected to give his son human blood.

Bakura sighed in relief, surprised at how at ease he felt, now that he knew how easily remedied Ryou's illness was.

"Ryou," he said, gently pushing a strand of hair off his son's forehead. "Daddy's going to go out for a little while, to get something to help you feel better. I need you to stay in bed until I get back, okay?"

"But it's night time," Ryou whined. "Can't I go with you?"

"No, Ryou," Bakura said firmly. "You need to stay here and sleep. I'll be back soon."

"Okay..." Ryou snuggled under the blankets. Bakura smiled and ruffled his hair.

"Get some sleep, Ryou," he said. "And don't puke on the floor, okay?" Ryou giggled as his father left the room, closing his eyes and almost immediately losing himself to his dreams.

Bakura locked the door behind him and sighed, looking up at the sky. Now that he knew what it was Ryou needed, he was left with the dilemma of trying to locate it. The nearest blood bank was two towns away, and at this time of night, it was most likely guarded with some form of security that he didn't feel like dealing with. He sighed.

"_Looks like I'll have to do it the old-fashioned way..."_ he thought, setting off for the nearest convenience store.

Bakura glanced through the store's window, silently cursing his luck. A bored-looking young woman with blond hair was at the counter. Women in this day and age were much less trusting of men - although, who could blame them, with all the maniacs running around. (Not that Bakura was really one to talk about people being maniacs.)

With a sigh, Bakura pushed open the door and approached the counter.

"Excuse me, miss," he said. The woman glanced at him. "I'm having a bit of car trouble, and for some reason I can't get any cell phone reception. Do you think you could step outside and show me the direction of the nearest mechanic?"

The woman stared at him like he had sprouted a second head.

"You're kidding, right?" she said. "Do I _look_ stupid?" She shook her head. "Just get lost, creep."

Bakura sighed. Evidently, he would have to resort to _that_. He leaned over the counter, locking eyes with the woman.

"Would you please step outside with me for a moment?" he asked. The woman blinked.

"Alright..." She stepped around the counter and followed Bakura out to the street and into an alleyway. Bakura reached into his pocket and took out a small blade. He gently took hold of the woman's arm.

"I'm sorry about this," he said, quickly dragging the blade across her skin. Blood bubbled up from the wound, leaking across her flesh and dripping onto the ground. Bakura held his breath, forcing himself not to inhale too deeply as he withdrew a vial from his pocket and filled it as quickly as he could.

The scent of fresh blood was starting to make him dizzy. His mind was going fuzzy as he stared at the rich, red liquid. Just one taste... It wouldn't hurt anyone... He'd make sure to stop himself before he killed her... He let out a small growl, feeling his fangs grow longer. He hadn't had it like this, fresh, in a long time... Surely it would be alright...

_"No!"_ he told himself sharply. _"They already suspect you're here. Don't give them anymore clues." _Bakura quickly licked his thumb and dragged it across the cut on the woman's arm. Almost immediately, the wound began to close. Bakura slipped the knife and the vial back into his pocket and waved his hand in front of the woman's face, snapping her out of her trance.

"Huh? What? Oh..." She seemed to regain her senses when she saw Bakura. "Right. Keep heading up this street and you'll find the mechanic. That's the best I can do for you."

"Thank you. You have been a great help." Bakura strode away, fingering the small vial in his pocket.

"More than you realize..."

* * *

"Ryou." Bakura gently shook his son's shoulder. "Wake up, little guy." Ryou whined, blinking open his eyes and sitting up.

"Daddy, I'm sleepy," he whined. Bakura smiled.

"I know, I know," he said. "Drink this, and you can go right back to sleep." He handed a cup containing the blood - mixed with fruit juice so Ryou wouldn't get too attached to the taste - to his son. Ryou took the cup and drank it's contents, crinkling his nose a bit.

"Good boy." Bakura placed his hand on Ryou's forehead. His fever was already starting to go down. "I'll stay home tomorrow to make sure you're better, okay?"

"Okay." Ryou yawned and snuggled under the blankets. Bakura smiled and turned to leave.

"Daddy?" Bakura paused, turning his head.

"Yes?"

"You still love my momma, right?"

"...Of course, Ryou."

"And you won't never love nobody else but her, right?"

Bakura turned, crossing his arms and giving his son a long look.

"...What are you talking about, Ryou?" The child curled up, avoiding his father's gaze.

"Nuthin'..."

"Ryou."

"...I just don' wan' nobody replacin' my momma."

"Ryou." Bakura sat down on the bed, bewildered. "Where is all this coming from? I'm not going to replace your mother. No one could ever take her place. You know that."

Ryou hesitated, crawling out from under the blankets and into his father's lap.

"I don' wanna forget 'bout her, and you're forgettin' 'bout her," he said, burying his face in Bakura's shirt. Bakura stroked his son's hair.

"Ryou, I'm not forgetting about her. I will never be able to forget your mother, I promise."

"But, you keep bringin' your friend over, and you always look at him funny, and you say his name different than you say mine..."

"Ryou..." Bakura sighed. There was no way to explain the situation to Ryou in a way that he would be able to understand. The child couldn't even remember Marik from the past, how could he possibly be able to recognize him now? "You'll understand when you're older. Marik is just someone who is helping Daddy with his schoolwork, okay?"

"...Okay..." Bakura offered a small, forced smile.

"How about you go back to sleep, hm?" Ryou nodded, allowing himself to be tucked back into bed. His tummy didn't hurt as much anymore, and he was grateful for it. His dreams always seemed much more vivid when he wasn't feeling good.

Bakura placed his hand on his son's forehead one last time, taking note of how much his fever had gone down.

"Sleep tight, little guy. I'll be home when you wake up, okay?"

"Okay. Night-night, Daddy." Ryou watched his father leave the room before kicking out from under the blankets and padding over to the window. Bakura had had thick, heavy shades installed on the windows when they had first moved in, almost two hundred years ago. Ryou avoided the windows by day, but at night he couldn't be hurt. He pulled the shades back and climbed up onto the windowsill, staring up at the almost-full moon.

If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost remember what his mother looked like. He could remember her scent easily enough, but her face was much harder to capture in his mind's eye. He didn't care what his father said; he was forgetting about her, and was instead paying far too much attention to this other person he kept bringing home.

_Marik. _Ryou curled his hands into tiny fists as he thought about the way Bakura talked about him, the way he looked at him. Ryou didn't care how much Marik's scent reminded him of his mother's, he wasn't going to allow Marik to take his mother's place. No matter what he had to do, he would keep Bakura from choosing Marik as a replacement.

* * *

"So, I see your stalker friend isn't here today." Duke leaned against Marik's locker, grinning. "What do you say to coming over to my place after school, to work on that, ahem, _project_ a bit more?"

Marik hesitated. Almost every part of his brain was screaming at him to say yes, to go with Duke and forget about this whole crazy experiment idea. But there was still that one, niggling voice in the back of his mind that told him that going with Duke would not be the wisest decision. Duke narrowed his eyes slightly at Marik's apprehensiveness.

"Unless, of course, you're still not sure..."

"I'm sorry," Marik blurted out. "I'll know by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Duke straightened up and stared into Marik's eyes. "And how, pray tell, are you planning to..." Duke trailed off, brow furrowed. He stared at Marik. "You're not seriously going to... With _him_?!"

"What are you-"

"Nevermind. Just forget it." Duke slung his school bag over one shoulder. "I'll see you later. Good luck _tutoring_ tonight." The raven-haired boy turned and stalked away, pulling out his cell phone and dialing without even looking at the number pad. Marik watched him go.

"_What the hell was _that_ all about?_" he wondered. _"If I didn't know better, I would think he..." _Marik shook his head. No, that was stupid. Besides, he had bigger things to worry about.

Now that the end of the day was finally here, nerves were starting to get the better of Marik. And who could blame him? The whole idea was crazy - how was he even supposed to start?

"Oh, hey, Bakura, speaking of imaginary numbers, I'm confused about my sexuality at the current point in time, so I was wondering if you would be willing to experiment with me so I can tell if I'd be comfortable dating Duke?"

Yeah, like _that_ would go over well.

_"Maybe I could just kiss him without saying anything,"_ he thought as he wandered along the sidewalk, kicking a stray pebble as he went. _"No... Then he'd think I'm interested in him and he'd never leave me alone."_

"You could just forget this whole stupid idea," a small voice in the back of his mind suggested. It seemed like a good idea, but at the same time, Marik knew that he had to figure this out if he had any hope of ever being comfortable with it.

"_I'll just wing it,"_ Marik decided. "_I'll wait for the right time and then...do _something_..."_

Marik wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans as he walked up to Bakura's door and knocked.

"_Here goes nothing,"_ he thought as the door opened.

"Uh, hi," he said stupidly as the door opened. Bakura raised an eyebrow, stepping to one side to let him enter.

"I almost wasn't expecting you to come," he said. "Considering I wasn't at school today."

"Well, I thought that maybe I should stop by anyway. I figured your kid didn't fall asleep last night, so you needed to be here when he woke up."

"Ryou had a fever last night. I stayed home today to make sure he was feeling better."

"Oh..." Marik hesitated. If Ryou was sick, it probably wasn't the best idea for him to be distracting Bakura. "I can go, if you-"

"No, no," Bakura shook his head, leading the way to the kitchen, their usual studying place. "He's doing much better. He's asleep right now, anyway, so you aren't distracting me from anything important." He chuckled lightly. "In fact, this will actually keep me from getting bored waiting for him to wake up."

"Oh. Okay, then."

Marik slid into the seat next to Bakura and took his math notebook out of his bag. Bakura watched him closely. It had been nearly two weeks, and Marik wasn't showing any signs of recognition. Not even towards Ryou. And Ryou was starting to get testy about having Marik around every day. Bakura had to figure out how to wrap things up, and _fast_, before any more problems appeared.

"So," Marik turned to Bakura, startling the white-haired boy out of his thoughts. "Shall we get started?"

For the next hour, Marik found himself becoming increasingly distracted. Part of him was screaming at him to just get on with it already, while another part was screaming at him to just forget about the whole thing. It was a dumb idea in the first place, maybe it would be best for him to-

"Marik. Can I ask you something?" Marik was driven out of his thoughts by Bakura's voice.

"Uh, am I not explaining this stuff in a way that you understand? We can go over it again if you don't get it-"

"It isn't that." Bakura took a deep breath. "Marik, is there anything here that seems familiar to you at all? Anything about me, or even Ryou, that's the slightest bit...recognisable?"

"...What the hell are you talking about?" Okay, there was definitely no way Marik would be able to experiment with Bakura. The guy was totally off his rocker. Like father, like son, Marik figured.

"Me. Do you remember me?" Bakura locked eyes with Marik and the confused teen felt a jolt in his stomach when he saw that Bakura was completely serious.

"Remember you? From where? I've lived in this town my whole life, Bakura, and I never met you before you moved here." Bakura bowed his head.

"...So you really don't remember..." he murmured. Marik, feeling increasingly uncomfortable, stood up.

"You know, it's getting kinda late, and your kid is sick, so I'm sure you'll wanna take care of him. I'll just see myself out-"

"_NO_!"

Bakura was on his feet faster than Marik could blink. He gripped Marik's forearms tightly, shoulders trembling, and a cloud of snow white hair obscuring his eyes from view.

"You have to remember... You can't just forget about me, about everything... Please, Marik, you have to remember!"

"Bakura, what are you-" Marik was cut off by Bakura's mouth covering his own.

Marik froze, his eyes widening. Bakura shifted, moving one hand to the back of Marik's head, tangling his fingers in Marik's hair. Marik's breath hitched. Bakura tugged at Marik's hair, tipping his head back slightly. Marik gasped at the action, sliding his eyes closed. Bakura took the advantage to slip his tongue into Marik's mouth.

Marik groaned, wrapping his arms around Bakura's neck. This was wrong. This should be wrong. Then why wasn't he stopping it?

_"Well, this is what you came here for, isn't it?"_ A little voice whispered in the back of his mind. It was - but he hadn't been expecting a full-on makeout.

Bakura drew away from Marik's mouth just as Marik was starting to notice the lack of air. The white-haired teen trailed his lips up Marik's jaw, catching his earlobe between his teeth. Marik groaned, practically melting up against Bakura.

"_Just how is this guy finding all the right places so easily?"_ Marik wondered through the haze that was starting to overtake his mind. Without thinking, he shifted his head, reconnecting his lips to Bakura's. Bakura gripped Marik's hair tightly, crushing himself against the other teen. It felt so amazing, after two hundred years, to finally hold Marik again, to kiss him like this...

"Daddy?"

The couple leapt apart from each other as if they had been struck by an electric current.

"Oh _shit_," Bakura breathed, turning to face the door. Ryou was standing there, eyes wide.

"Ryou," Bakura said, forcing his voice to stay gentle. "You're up early."

Ryou stared, mouth agape. Slowly, he shook his head from side to side.

"No..." he murmured. "No... _NO!_" Ryou suddenly screamed, louder than anything Marik had ever heard before. He clapped his hands over his ears, but he knew it wouldn't do any good.

"Shit!" Bakura leapt forward, grabbing Ryou and holding him tightly. "It's okay, Ryou! Everything's fine!"

"No!" Ryou continued to scream, trying to wriggle out of his father's arms. Bakura held him tighter and began muttering something under his breath. Marik didn't understand what he was saying, but he caught the words "nu plânge" and "somn".

Ryou eventually quieted down, falling limply against Bakura's chest and watching Marik carefully out of the corner of his eye.

"...Make him go away, Daddy," he said. Bakura sighed.

"It's okay, Ryou. Marik's leaving now." Bakura glanced at Marik, who didn't need the extra hint.

"I'll...I'll see you in school or something," Marik muttered, avoiding Bakura's gaze. He picked up his bag and left quickly. As soon as he was gone, Ryou relaxed completely, slumping in his father's arms.

"You promised you wouldn' forget her..." he sniffled. Bakura held Ryou tightly, feeling disgusted with himself. He couldn't believe that he had let his guard down so much that he had been unable to hear his son approaching.

"I'm sorry, Ryou," he whispered. Ryou closed his eyes, evidently drained from his episode. Bakura stood, staring down at the child in his arms.

"_What the hell was that?"_ he thought, carrying Ryou upstairs. "_I knew he could be volatile, but that...that was just bizarre."_ Bakura gently settled Ryou into bed. One thing was certain, he was going to need help if he had a prayer of dealing with both Ryou and Marik at the same time.

"_Can I really do it?"_ Bakura thought. "_After all, _they're_ in town. It's too dangerous."_ Ryou shifted in his sleep, unconciously kicking his foot out from under the blankets. Bakura carefully covered it back up.

"_No. I can't handle this on my own. I need help." _Bakura sighed. _"Looks like I'm gonna have to give _her_ a call..."_

* * *

**God, I suck at writing kissing scenes. Maybe someday I'll be able to write them properly...**

**Sorry for the awkward transition in the middle, where it just randomly goes to Duke and Marik at the end of the day. I didn't notice it until I was proofreading, and I couldn't really come up with anything else to put there.**

**I can't really think of anything to say here right now, except I hope you enjoyed the chapter, the next one will hopefully be coming soon, and review!**


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